


Eye to Eye

by YoungSoon



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tokyo Ghoul, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Enemies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fights, Ghouls, Inspired by Tokyo Ghoul, M/M, dove Hongjoong, ghoul Seonghwa, possible: - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22973851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungSoon/pseuds/YoungSoon
Summary: This world is a terrible place filled with monster. But sometimes we should think - are monsters the ones we announce to be or maybe we ourselves are the monstrous ones.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Eye to Eye

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for @yuzuzuyu1 on twitter!  
Commissions [ HERE](https://twitter.com/BeanSensei/status/1219648851457593345)  


One terrified scream after another rings out in the damp early morning air. The sun is barely rising behind the tall buildings and painting the warehouse district of the city into an ominous shade of purple and orange. Heavy rain has poured throughout the whole night, stopping only ten minutes ago, leaving deep puddles on every step, all buildings, windowsills, railings, bridges, parked cars, and bus stops dripping wet, waiting for the sun to dry them. Each step taken splashes against the still wet asphalt and echoes around a side alley with nothing more but two green metal trash containers in it. That and a terrified man in a tracksuit at the back wall of this dead-end, yelling for help.

“Get the hell away from me!” he shrieks in the most undignified way, his sneakers squeaking against the wet flooring as he moves in one spot, trying to find a way out from the tough situation he has brought himself in. He has been running for what seems to be hours now from a shadowy figure always just a few steps behind him, red eyes gleaming into the darkness of the early morning hours. “I said, stay away!” he yells out at the tall figure slowly emerging from the shadow cast by the street lamp at the end of the alley.

“What’s the matter? Am I not your type?” the figure speaks in a deep, sultry voice. It approaches closer, the heels of its dress-shoes clacking against the asphalt. The figure has its hands stuffed in pockets of well ironed and well-fitting suit pants in deep grey, emerging from the shadow first along with long legs and the black shoes. A carved mask of a traditional dragon hangs in a string by its hip, swaying softly as the figure moves.

“Or maybe you don’t like the fact I can fight back? The fact that I could hurt you instead,” a body emerges next, clad in a black dress shirt sticking to the toned body of a man due to the rain. The two top buttons of the shirt are undone, showing prominent collarbones and a simple, thin silver chain resting on them. A couple of water droplets glisten on his tanned skin, the effect magical and yet somehow terrifying. 

“Tell me, what makes you shiver more - the idea of death or torment?” finally, with a flare of bright red eyes, a handsome face emerges from the shadow. The man now standing in the alley way has pitch-black hair, buzzed short on the right side, and reaching down to half of his cheek on the other. A silver hoop graces his right ear, shimmering in the muted light of the lamppost. The hairdo he has sported before is messed up due to the rain, but he has more important, more exciting things to worry about.

“Keep away!” the frightened man, now pressed against the back wall, yells out. He claws at the bricks behind him, his knees shivering, but there is nowhere to run. His voice is quivering, and he reeks of the most pathetic fear one has ever felt before. A lowly scum, nothing more and nothing less is the near-fainting man, and such men deserved only one sentence - death.

“Not a single answer. How pitiful,” the man standing next to the shadow tsks and takes his hands out of his pockets. “If there is no defense, I will not make you wait for your punishment,” he smiles softly, and his eyes turn pitch black, pupils blaring red as he takes off over the wet asphalt so fast his footsteps can’t be heard at all.

The man in the tracksuit rests his back against the wall, yelling from the top of his lungs, calling for help, but in a second, the red-eyed man is already in front of him. “This is for all of them. And for pretending to me of my kind,” he whispers in a low voice before a red and black tail emerges from his lower back, whips in the air once and shoots forward, piercing through the man. He lets out one final cough-like moan before sliding down, leaving a bloody trail on the still wet wall, his body limp and lifeless in seconds. 

The tail retracts back in a blink of an eye, and its owner squats down in front of the dead man. “Pathetic and almost completely useless,” he shakes his head before thrusting his hand into the bleeding, and barely pulsating cavern created seconds ago and grabbing a handful of the still-warm flesh. With a silent disgust in his features, he inspects the handful of a bloody mess, letting out a sigh. There is not much choice, even if it does taste disgusting. He lifts it to his mouth, taking a bite from the dripping piece of meat, his mouth, and chin staining in red. Blood drips down his chin and neck more and more, bite after bite, and he can’t deny he is a very messy eater, but this meal is nothing to savor and fiddle around with.

He can taste each pack of cigarettes, each bottle of cheap alcohol the man has consumed, each drug he has tried, the taste bitter and almost sour as if he has started to rot already, spare to say not pleasant at all. Besides he feels the tough and chewy texture of the flesh - definitely not well nourished or looked after - just drowned into daily pleasures at any given chance. What makes the taste even more repulsive is the deeply rooted taste of evil, of inhuman engraved in each vein, each capillary. It is as if his vicious intentions are a part of his DNA and can be tasted in each mouthful. How ironic is it that the man feasting on his flesh is the one judging him.

“Why is it you again, Seonghwa?” a voice speaks behind him, and the man eating would say he is startled, but it would be a lie. He knows he was followed for a large part of this night during the hunt. And he knows precisely who trailed after him - he could recognize those footsteps and scent anywhere.

“I could ask the same, Hongjoong,” he says with a smile and stands up. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, even if it doesn’t do much. The blood has soaked and spread on the sleeves and front his black shirt, which will be thrown out as soon as possible. So it does not matter much. “Must be destiny for us to meet all the time,” he turns to the man with the same smile on his features, regardless of blood smeared around his chin, cheeks, and even on the tip of his nose.

Hongjoong is standing right where Seonghwa was minutes ago - right at the edge of the deeply cast shadow. There is a faint disgust on the sharp features, a bit of sadness in the piercing green eyes, but he is very good at keeping most of his emotions hidden. A prime example of a hunter. Even his atire is perfect - a well fitted dark jeans tucked into combat boots, a white leather jacket starting right at his belt and hugging his waist, silver hair with a thin braid on the right side, a slit in his eyebrow, a black choker with a cross pendant around his neck and that cursed, reeking suitcase in his hand. A prime dove right before Seonghwa, oh, if only his fellow hunters would know how weak he could be. If not the last item he is holding, it would be worthwhile to chat a bit with him, it’s destiny after all. It always is.

“If it is destiny, then you are destined to finally die from my hand,” Hongjoong seems to not share precisely the same sentiment as Seonghwa. He says one, but there is this spark in his eyes he himself is probably not aware of. He always acts so cold it is almost offensive, while his features always betray him. Cute.  


“How harsh,” Seonghwa lays a hand on his heart and shakes his head, faking a deep pain. “Anyway, you have nothing to do here, Hongjoong. This is where we part ways if you are smart enough,” his voice drops from faking sweetness to almost menacing. His eyes trail to the man with the hole in his stomach, and for a second, he thinks it would be an excellent snack for those who stayed home, but the meat is rancid and would cause indigestion for a less strong stomach. Not that Hongjoong would let him take it along anyway.

“You just killed a human,” Hongjoong takes a step closer, his grip on the handle of the suitcase tightening. How persistently annoying he could be.

“Are you sure you can call him that?” Seonghwa snickers and looks at Hongjoong. “Have you any idea what he has done to count him as one of your kind? Or perhaps a regular human stands lower than a dove. But even then, there should be gradation,” he tilts his head to the side with a mocking grin on his lips.

“What are you on about?” Hongjong’s face shifts from a fight-ready frown to one of curiosity. His grip does not loosen up, though. That is one of the things Seonghwa likes about him a lot - his duty always comes first, but he is so curious by nature he can’t help it any situation. It could be his downfall at one point, which is quite sad. Not everyone is as kind as Seonghwa.

“How detached from reality and far more serious problems are all of you?” the red-eyed man lets out a laugh while shaking his head. “This thing you called a human is nothing more than a scummy, disgusting criminal,” he kicks the corpses outstretched leg with enough force to make it flip over. “A rapist, a murderer. Lurking on defenseless women, defenseless human beings walking around the night. Humans so brainwashed that they should only fear ghouls a fellow human could get to them easily,” he scoffs at the body and looks back at Hongjoong. “He is one of the hundreds, thousands who commit atrocious crimes while all of you run around like headless pigeons you are, focusing only on us.” Seonghwa’s voice has become atypically loud, too passionate for the occasion, so he has to take a breath to calm down before he continues.

“Instead of hunting those who are outcasts and turned into monsters by no one else but your kind, find the rotten apples amongst yourselves. Or I can assure your humanity will rot from inside out and faster than you imagine,” he completes his rant and inhales deeply. The air is a mix of the blood, rain, rising dawn, and Hongjoong. Not a bad mix to start the day with. “Now, excuse me,” he fakes a smile and begins walking forward calmly and passes Hongjoong, who has been silently listening the whole time.

“And who has given you the right to be a judge?” the dove finally snaps back, and Seonghwa stops in his tracks just a step behind him. Did he hear it right?

“Experience. Knowing humans well enough after these years,” he replies with confidence. He has more ground to judge someone on than many others.

“By killing him and all others you have before you are no better than them,” Hongjoong attempts to counter moralize the ghoul, but the taller man just lets out a loud laugh. How adorably naive.

“Then let's say I am keeping balance. They are all gone, but I stay. However, you running out and massacring whole families of ghouls - what does that give?” he adds and is about to walk away when he hears the click of the suitcase lock. A sound he absolutely dreaded as he never enjoyed such futile fights. Seonghwa exhales slowly and turns around facing seemingly his arch-nemesis while, in reality, it is just someone he finds interesting.

Hongjoong has taken a step back and is in the exact midpoint between Seoghwa and the dead man. The suitcase has been tossed to the side, and he is holding onto a large, wide sword, probably as big as Hongjoong himself. It’s deep purple with red veins running through it and probably has taken quite a while and ‘resources’ to be made. Even if impressive, it brings nothing but disgust to Seonghwa, its smell offensive to his senses.

“Got a new toy, I see,” he grimaces at the weapon in the smaller man’s hands while the latter takes a battle-ready stance, his eyes burning and locked with Seonghwa.

“You destroyed my previous quinque, so I had to get a new and better one,” he explains with a smirk, and Seonghwa has to make a face again.

“Your previous toy was the last part of a dear friend of mine. It was my duty to put all of him to respectful sleep and not let him remain a toy in some pigeons hands, used against his own kind,” he inhales and exhales deeply. “Do you ever think of how you are waving around parts of corpses to fight? And then dare to call ghouls monsters? Fascinating,” with no rush, he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and licks the nearly dried blood from around his lips. “I guess I need to help the fallen of my kin rest once more,” he smiles a soft, almost kind smile.

One by one, tails appear from his lower back. Each tail is a good meter and a half long with a pointed spear-shaped tip. Scale like growths in deepest, shiniest black covers them entirely with pulsating red peaking between the scales as they move, taller scales standing up in a row in the middle of the tail like thorns. The tail count ends at nine, making a half-circle behind Seonghwa, whipping the air slowly and illuminating the area around him in pale red light.

“Bring it on, Nine-Tailed Dragon,” Hongjoong smirks and launches forward, swinging the sword at the ghoul but meeting a wall created by four tails right in front of him. “Fight me properly,” he hisses and swings the sword once more, sparks flying into the air when it hits the tails. It stings maybe a little, like getting poked with a needle, but by this point, Hongjoong should know better.

“I have never fought you properly. What makes you think today will be the day for that,” Seonghwa replies in almost bored, monotone voice. “If I would have gone all out even once we wouldn’t be here talking,” he emphasizes with pity in his voice as Hongjoong launches another swing at the wall between them.

“Are you mocking me?” the shorter man hisses. “Are you not taking me seriously again?” he huffs in the damp air and takes a step back from Seonghwa. The latter retracts the wall, the tails remaining behind him, and looks at the angry man before him.

“I am not mocking you. However, I can’t take you seriously. Your headquarters should have enough information on me for you to know you can’t take me out,” he lets out a sigh. This is Hongjoong’s most tragic characteristic - not taking all information in.

“And you think I am showing all I can do from the first minute?” Hongjoong smirks again, and instead of running forward, he aims his sword at Seonghwa, purple lightning enveloping the blade before shooting straight at the ghoul. It is, however, a miss.

Gracefully, Seonghwa kicks off the asphalt and thrusts three of his tails into a wall of the building closes him, now towering over Hongjoong even more. “No wonder your toy stinks so much. How many kagunes have been disrespected, mutilated, and melted into that thing? Do you even know how many lives are you carrying with you apart from the ones on your consciousness?” he doesn’t hide his disgust as he looks down at the man in the white jacket. “At least San had the heart to quit,” he adds, and Hongjoong’s eyes grow big instantly.

“Where is he?” he exclaims with an unusual amount of emotion for his usually quite professional demeanor. “Answer me!” he yells out even when Seonghwa has been quiet for just a few seconds.

“Your star pupil is with Yunho, where else could he be. He’s safe and happy, hidden away from you, and the annoying search for him,” Seonghwa replies. He is not obliged to say anything else, but there is this desperate pain in Hongjoong’s face he wants to both tease him a bit about and ease the pain he must be feeling at the same time. He deserves and doesn’t deserve this at the same time. He is just a man of orders, after all.

“Remember, he is no longer your responsibility. It doesn’t matter he was ‘kidnapped’ during an extermination mission of a  _ peaceful _ community in the slums,” Seonghwa feels his own emotions bubbling as he never thought he would see Hongjoong as a part of an extermination unit until that day. Simply breezing through house after house and not sparing a sinlge ghoul - woman or child. Not all orders have to be listened to, when will he understand that.

“Until you return him, his status is ‘taken hostage,’” Hongjoong sounds colder than ever before. His now ex-student is his weak spot, even more than his fascination with Seonghwa. Both are a dangerous game now as his student is in love with a ghoul and Seonghwa. Well, it is very clear who he is and why this can't work in their favor.   


“And nothing is ever peaceful about ghouls,” he almost hisses and charges his quinque up again, firing another round of lighting at the wall where Seounghwa is. A loud explosion-like sound echoes around the neighborhood, a cloud of dust and debris flying into the air before raining over the still wet ground. However, the ghoul avoids it with quite an ease by simply leaping across the man on the ground and standing on top of one of the trash containers.

“He is not returning, Hongjoong. If the day comes where you will once more find that community and try to take them out, he will be on their side. You have taught him well, but his moral compass is far better set than yours,” at this point, Seonghwa feels deep pity for the infuriated man who is losing his professional face as minutes go on. 

“You would have at least some sort of contact with him if you wouldn’t so loudly deny the possibility he is truly in love with a ghoul and not a hostage,” Seonghwa ads, and Hongjoong loses it completely.

“Shut your filthy mouth!” Hongjoong yells out and launches forward, swinging his sword high and as Seonghwa jumps out of the way, he his the container with it. splitting it in half. The garbage spills on the asphalt and into the puddles, putrid scent ruining the morning aroma Seonghwa wanted to take in.

“Fine,” he sighs from the rooftop of the nearest house and in second dives right down. Three of his tails move forward, aiming at Hongjoong, but the sword holds out as a great shield, blocking a direct impact. However, the man is pushed back until his back hits the wall, his boots making a tooth-ache inducing sound on the ground as he is moved against his will. 

With all his might, Hongjoong tries to push the ghoul back, but it is all futile. He even attempts to charge the sword up again to blast both of them with lightning, if nothing else works, but before he can complete the action, two more tails hit it out of his hands. He is pinned against the wall with two of the pulsating and gleaming tails by his head, one under each arm, one between his legs. The remaining four are moving in front of his face like tamed yet venomous snakes. Seonghwa’s face is so very close to him; he physically can’t look past the blinding black and red eyes.

“Time and time again, I’m telling you, don’t lose your cool in dangerous situations. It won’t always be me you’re facing,” the ghoul is the one who is now seemingly losing his cool, hissing at HongJoong, yet he collects himself fast. “If I will spare you time and time again, no one else ever will,” he emphasizes.

“What if I don’t want to be spared?” Hongjoong asks in barely there voice, and his whole face completely changes. It is an expression Seonghwa has never seen before, but it pains him deeply to see it. It's pain, desperation, helplesness and fear - all mixed in one. “What if my moral compass is so shattered I no longer care?” he asks again, and Seonghwa retracts his tails aways from the man.

“Hongjoong!” a loud voice yells from the end of the alley, and in instinct, Seonghwa grabs his mask from his side and puts it on, hiding his face from the backup forces coming for their leader. He leaps back, keeping himself off the ground with his tails and shoots a quick glance at the three men running down from the street, tossing their suitcases to the side. The air fills with even more scent of Seonghwa’s fallen kin, and he has had too much this morning already.

“I’ll tell San I saw you,” he quickly remarks before making his escape over the buildings. It wouldn’t have been too much of a struggle to deal with the four of them but is not worth it. Especially if Hongjoong is feeling this way. It is not safe to deal with him now as he could provoke an outcome Seonghwa does not want.

“Are you okay?” Wooyoung stops next to Hongjoong as he picks up his quinque and puts it back into his suitcase. Mingi and Yeosang are right behind him, fully equipped and ready to fight, their eyes burning as they look around the alley. Mingi faintly gags at the massecared man and turns his head waya, his stomach never handling such scenes well.  


“Yes. I’m fine,” he replies and looks at the direction the Nine-Tailed Dragon went to. “And San is fine too,” he adds, and there is a unanimous sigh of relief from the three as their hearts alwas worry of their missing brother. They all look at the direction the ghoul went and coincidentally the same direction the sun is rising from. Another day is starting in this twisted world where no moral compass could guide them well enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BeanSensei)  
  
  
Commissions [ HERE](https://twitter.com/BeanSensei/status/1219648851457593345)  
  
** OTHER ATEEZ FAN FICTION **  
**||** [ YunSan: Your Light ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19869763) **||** [ YunSan: The Silver Mask ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159272) **||** [ YunSan: The Morning Alarm ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284231) **||** [ YunSan: A Gift ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21452566) **||** [ YunSan: Useless Skills](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21523681) **||** [ YunSan : Cliche ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573070) **||** [ YunSan: The Little Things ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648208) **||** [ YunSan: It All Starts Somewhere ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684025) **||** [ YunSan: Perfect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719539) **||** [ YunSan: Sugar and Spice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758428) **||** [ YunSan: Magnetic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932962) **||** [ JongWoo: Slow Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794587) **||** [ 2Choi: City Lights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706930) **||** [ 2Choi: Call fo the Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101031) **||** [ SanHwa: Until it Overflows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22212610%22) **||** [ SanHwa: Gallows-Birds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255243) **||** [ YunSan : Not a Cliche ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22362748) **||**YunSan: White and Red **||** OT8 (San focus): Beneath the Oak Tree **||**YunSan: Untouched


End file.
